


An Echo I Created

by camwolfe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Flashbacks, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:06:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camwolfe/pseuds/camwolfe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve has a flashback. It takes him by surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Echo I Created

**Author's Note:**

> I was so tired when I wrote this. SO TIRED. If there's a ton of errors, that's why. I probably say that about everything I write but I mean... I'm always tired, so.
> 
> The title is from "Container" by Fiona Apple.

Steve was so tired.

He was so unbelievably tired, and it didn’t look like he was going to catch a break any time soon.

The week started off terribly. Yeah, Bucky was doing pretty well now, but that didn’t mean that he never had bad days. He had a nightmare on Sunday night, one of the really awful ones where he screamed for hours and hours and Steve couldn’t do anything but sit and wait for it to be over. Bucky had a hard time waking up from them, sometimes, and if it got really bad he’d start to hurt himself. That meant another few hours of Steve trying to keep him from scratching at his own skin and eyes without it feeling too much like Steve was trying to pin him down. It was a tough balance, and they still didn’t really have it down pat.

That one bad night meant that Bucky was tired and grumpy the next day. He was even more irritable than usual, and Steve was stuck tiptoeing around him all day. Being in that state of heightened irritability made it hard for Bucky to sleep sometimes, so he just… didn’t. Which meant that they stayed up the next night too, watching movies and random television shows until Bucky finally passed out at sunrise, curled up on the couch with his head resting on Steve’s leg. Bucky didn’t respond well to sudden movements, and so Steve was afraid of falling asleep and then shifting around without warning Bucky. So he just didn’t sleep then, either.

Bucky slept a little better the next night, but Steve didn’t get to enjoy the momentary respite. A building a few streets down from theirs burst into flame just as Steve was just finishing dinner. He spent his evening and his night dragging people from the wreckage, and helping to keep the survivors calm and get them the medical attention they needed.

He’d also ended up with severe burns down his right arm and over part of his chest, but he didn’t even stop to think about that until he got home. All he wanted to do was sleep, by that point, but Bucky made him deal with his burns first. That led to an hour of Bucky painstakingly cutting Steve’s jacket and shirt away from his body, while Steve gritted his teeth and tried not to make a sound. After he’d showered and Bucky had carefully covered him in the special burn cream that they kept for occasions such as this, he’d finally lain down in bed to get some sleep.

Of course, not only are burns excruciatingly painful, but ones that healed as quickly as Steve’s did itched, too. He spent that night and the next wide awake, trying to think about pretty much anything other than the pain of his skin trying to rebuild itself.

Then _just_ as Steve had been lying down the next day on the couch, listening to Bucky making dinner in the kitchen and the soft sounds of the television, his phone had started beeping with an all too familiar urgency.

Two hours later, Steve had been on a plane headed to a country he’d never even heard of, sitting between Natasha and Sam on the cramped seats.

The mission went terribly. It wasn’t their fault, really. They’d just gotten there too late. Some horrific thing that came crawling out of the ocean had already decimated the small coastal town, dragging hundreds of people back out to sea with it.

They were lucky enough to have Thor along on that particular mission. He killed the thing with one lightning strike, but not before it dragged both Clint and Natasha out into the ocean. Thor pulled them out once the creature was dead, and then Stark and Sam joined him out above the water. At that point, all they could do was pull as many people out as they could and get them back to shore.

By the time they got back on the plane, Steve was soaked to the bone and shivering. It wasn’t important, though, because everyone else was in much worse shape.

Bruce was sitting in the corner, exhausted from his role in the fight. He’d turned back into himself in record time after it was over, but fatigue was still written all over his face.

Both of Natasha’s ankles were broken, or at least sprained. She’d finally allowed Steve to carry her back to the plane, but not without an excessive amount of insistence that she could do it herself if she really had to.

Clint had been thrown onto the rocks that lined the coast, leaving him with scratches and cuts all over his back and shoulders. One of the medics that Stark kept aboard the jet was patching him up, but he was still clearly in a lot of pain.

Sam had dislocated his shoulder pulling a woman out of the water, when the sea creature had tried to grab onto her at the same time. Sam had refused to let go, and he’d gotten the woman back safely. Steve popped his shoulder back in as soon as they were back to safety, but Sam still occasionally grimaced and rubbed at the tender muscles in his shoulder.

Thor physically seemed fine, although he seemed disturbed by the creature’s strength and power. He was looking out the windows of the jet, frowning.

Tony too had sustained no visible physical injuries, but he’d had the horrific job of pulling people out of the water. Most of them had been dead, and Tony had carried all of the ones he could find back to shore for their families. It hadn’t been an easy job.

All of them had had a rough time. Steve was so tired that his vision was starting to go a little blurry, but he had a job to do.

He got changed out of his freezing and soaking wet uniform, which had been making him feel antsy and nervous. He hated being cold like that.

He spent the rest of the flight moving around from person to person. He got Bruce some food and juice and Gatorade, and then a blanket when Bruce started falling asleep sitting up. He convinced Natasha to take a few painkillers, assuring her that no one would find her weaker for it. He helped the medics change the bandages on Clint’s back. He helped Sam stretch out his sore arm muscles. He listened to Thor talk at length about his concerns about alien invasions in Midgard. He brought Tony regular cups of coffee.

Steve was so tired.

Finally, everyone seemed to be taken care of. Steve slumped down in one of the seats, his eyes closing.

Of course, just then they landed in Stark Tower.

 

He just wanted to go home. He and Bucky had an apartment in Stark Tower, but they didn’t live there full time. Steve had his own apartment, and both he and Bucky preferred it there.

Bucky stayed at the tower when Steve went on missions, though. He was perfectly capable of living on his own, but he didn’t sleep at all if Steve was gone and Bucky was alone in their apartment. He didn’t sleep well in the tower apartment either, but at least he felt more secure there.

Bucky was waiting in the loading bay when they off the plane. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Steve carrying Natasha down the ramp.

“What happened?” he asked sharply as Steve walked by.

“Hi, Buck,” Steve said tiredly. “Everything’s fine.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“Doesn’t look fine,” Bucky muttered.

“Everybody’s alive,” Natasha told him. Bucky relaxed slightly, but he still followed Steve and Natasha all the way down to the med bay.

Once everyone was patched up, they all had to head back upstairs for debriefing. They held it in the common living area rather than the boardroom, mainly because everyone was too tired and defeated to sit in those uncomfortable chairs.

Steve got Natasha settled on the couch with a blanket, even as she insisted that she was fine. Clint sat down next to her, leaning forward so as not to put pressure on his back. He stole her blanket from her.

Thor sat down next to Bruce on the loveseat, the two of them talking quietly. Pepper and Maria sat in the armchairs, both of them looking at a tablet.

The open plan kitchen was right next to the sitting area. Steve eyed the other couches and decided they were too far away. He leaned his forearms on the counter instead, trying not to close his eyes.

“You look terrible,” Bucky said. He was standing next to Steve, paying no attention to the others in the room.

“I’ll be fine,” Steve told him, as reassuringly as he could. “I’m just tired.”

Sam and Tony were moving around the kitchen, pulling things out of the fridge and the cupboards.

“Okay, your options are popcorn and… popcorn,” Tony announced, looking at the pile of food on the counter. “I’m too tired to make anything else.”

“We could just order pizza,” Sam suggested. Everyone cheered their agreement, and Tony sighed.

“Fine, but I’m still making popcorn,” he said. He tossed the bag into the microwave and hit the button, frowning as nothing happened. “Since when is the microwave broken?”

“Uh,” Clint said guilty. “That might be my bad.”

Tony rolled his eyes and grabbed the microwave, spinning it around to look at the back.

“Tony, unplug it first,” Pepper ordered.

“It’s fine, I just need to – “ Tony started to say. The microwave exploded.

Steve blinked. He’d been sitting with Peggy in her room, both of them going over the next day’s map. Her feet kept accidentally brushing his, and his face turned red every time. Peggy was giving him one of her trademark small smiles when the world exploded around them.

Steve had left his shield resting up against his chair, and he grabbed it as he jumped. He managed to get it over Peggy as the roof caved in, sheltering her from the worst of the debris.

She was pushing him off the moment the assault stopped, coughing and waving her hand.

“Go,” she said, her voice raspy. “I’m fine, I’m right behind you. Go.”

Steve shoved his way out of the debris. They were right in the middle of the orderly camp that they’d been staying at for a few weeks now. Well, they were in what was left of it.

People were screaming around him. Too many. Steve couldn’t help them all, he just couldn’t. He needed his team, he needed Bucky, but they’d gone into town for the night. Hopefully they’d escaped this.

Steve set to work pulling soldiers out of the wreckage, his heart racing. There was blood trickling down his face, but that wasn’t important.

Another bomb hit the other side of the camp. Steve braced himself against a pile of rubble as the ground rolled, gritting his teeth. He couldn’t fight this, he couldn’t do anything against something like this. All he could do was help as much as he could.

The guy who had brought Steve and Peggy their dinner that evening was lying on the ground in front of Steve. He stared up at Steve, his eyes wide. Part of his torso was gone.

Steve knelt down, but he died before Steve could even say a word. Steve was on his feet again then, still moving.

One of the bunkhouses had collapsed on a group of men. Steve got most of them out, but one man would not stop screaming and flailing long enough for Steve to drag him out. It was chaos, it was –

“Steve.”

Steve blinked, and the world around him evaporated. Someone was crouched in front of him.

Steve sucked in a desperate breath, his chest too tight. Fear and rage were still running through his veins, his muscles burning.

“Steve, you’re safe,” the person in front of him said calmly. Sam, it was Sam. Sam was talking to him. “You’re okay. Everybody’s safe.”

“No,” Steve managed to gasp out, because they weren’t safe, there were all those people that had died in front of him –

“Steve, do you know where you are?” Sam asked. His voice was slow and even.

Steve made himself take another breath. “Yeah.”

“Can you tell me where we are?”

“Tower,” Steve said, a little breathlessly. “Stark Tower.”

“Hey, it’s renamed now,” Tony said from somewhere behind Sam. Someone shushed him.

“Great,” Sam said, easily ignoring Tony. “Do you know what year it is?”

Steve opened his mouth to say that of course he did, of course he knew what year it was, until it hit him that he _didn’t_ actually know, he couldn’t remember what year it was, it was all mixed up in his head –

Steve started to panic again, his breath turning into wheezes.

“Woah, woah, it’s okay,” Sam said hurriedly. “It’s 2015, Steve. You’re safe.”

Steve stared miserably at him. He believed Sam, he did, but everything in his head was still telling him to run, that they were all in danger.

Steve’s hands were shaking now. Bucky was supposed to be here, wasn’t he? Steve couldn’t see him, he was here just a minute ago –

“Bucky,” Steve gasped out. “Where’s – “

“He’s right here,” Sam said, in that same even voice. He waved someone over, outside of Steve’s narrow line of vision.

Sure enough, Bucky knelt down next to Sam. He was staring at Steve with wide eyes, his face pale.

Steve stretched his arm out and grabbed hold of Bucky’s right hand, wrapping his fingers around Bucky’s wrist. He could feel his heartbeat that way. It was too fast right now, but it was real and Bucky was alive and he was right there.

Steve forced himself to take another deep breath, the cold panic slowly starting to drain out of him. The darkness started to clear from his vision as his breathing steadied, and Steve finally took in the room around him.

Everyone was watching him. Natasha was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, like she’d tried to get up and had forgotten about her broken ankles. Clint had his hand on her shoulder, but he too was watching Steve.

Bruce and Thor were on their feet, both standing uncertainly by the couches. Pepper looked upset, and Maria was frowning.

Tony was still standing in the kitchen. He looked unusually lost, like he was staring at a problem that, for once, he had no idea how to fix.

“Sorry,” Steve said. “I’m sorry.”

He tried to get to his feet, ignoring the sounds of everyone trying to talk at once. His head spun and he nearly collapsed again, falling back against the wall that he’d somehow ended up against.

Bucky caught his arm, easily hauling Steve back to his feet.

“Steve, you might want to take a minute,” Sam said cautiously.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Steve said, even though his vision was starting to blur again. He turned for the door, bracing himself too heavily on Bucky.

People were saying his name, but he had to leave. He couldn’t be in that room a second longer. He couldn’t let them see him like this.

Bucky, thankfully, didn’t question it. He pulled Steve down the hall to the elevator, the doors opening for them the minute they reached it.

Steve let go of Bucky’s arm and braced his hands on his knees, trying to even his breathing out. Hell, he’d coached Bucky through it enough times, he should be able to do it himself.

It just wouldn’t work. He couldn’t calm down.

“Steve?” Bucky said uncertainly.

“I’m fine,” Steve muttered, in response to the question that Bucky hadn’t even really asked.

“Yeah, okay,” Bucky said doubtfully. The doors opened, and Steve stumbled out onto their floor.

“I’m just… tired, I’m just tired,” Steve said. He started to make his way towards his bedroom. The floor felt like water under his feet.

“Steve, stop, hey,” Bucky said quickly. He hurried over to block Steve’s path, holding his hands out carefully. “Get in the shower first. Then you can sleep.”

Steve blinked tiredly at him. “But – “

“Trust me on this one. You’ve still got blood in your hair.”

Steve was too tired to argue. He wandered into the washroom and turned the shower on, leaning against the glass shower door lethargically.

“You gotta take your clothes off first,” Bucky remarked from the doorway. “Not sure if you know that.”

“Fuck off,” Steve muttered tiredly. Bucky laughed, and Steve couldn’t help but smile a little. Bucky didn’t laugh that often, which was really too bad because he had _such_ a nice laugh, Steve loved listening to it –

“Steve.”

Right. Clothes.

Bucky waited until Steve got into the shower before he finally disappeared into the kitchen. Steve didn’t really shower so much as just he leaned against the wall and let the water run over him. 

Bucky had left some of his clothes for him in a pile on the counter. Steve blearily pulled them on once he’d stumbled out of the shower. He tried to make a break for his bedroom.

“You gotta eat something first,” Bucky said from the kitchen.

Steve groaned and leaned against the wall. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Bucky, I’m so tired.”

“Yeah, and you also haven’t eaten,” Bucky said. “You know how you get when you don’t eat.”

Steve sighed and went into the kitchen. Bucky handed him a plate with an omelet on it and a bottle of Gatorade.

“Thank you,” Steve said tiredly. He almost felt like he was going to cry.

“Don’t start crying on me,” Bucky said sharply. He practically pushed Steve into a chair and shoved a fork into his hands. “You do this for me all the time.”

“I know,” Steve said, nearly eating half the omelet in one bite. “But…”

“But nothing,” Bucky said. He leaned on the counter, watching Steve with narrowed eyes. “Don’t you dare start going on about how you don’t need help.”

“Okay.”

Bucky stared. “You’re not going to argue?”

“Too tired,” Steve said quietly. He finished his omelet and drank half of the Gatorade before he let his head fall into his hands.

“Steve?”

Steve took a shaky breath in. “They were all dead, Buck, everyone was dying and I couldn’t save them – “

Bucky sighed. “Come on. You need to sleep.”

“But they…” Steve murmured. Bucky gently pulled him into his bedroom. “They…”

“I know, Steve,” Bucky said quietly. “Lay down.”

Steve climbed onto his bed, collapsing face-first onto his pillow. Sleep was already starting to pull him under.

“Wait,” he said, as clearly as he could. “Bucky?”

“I’m right here, Steve.”

Steve lifted his head from his pillow for a moment. “Are you… can you stay? Can you…”

Bucky sighed again. “I’ll be right here, Steve. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” Steve said, and finally let his eyes close.

 

It was dark when he woke up. He was still lying on his stomach on his bed, although there was a blanket over him now.

He rolled over, blinking groggily. Bucky was still sitting next to him, cross-legged on the bed.

“Hey,” Steve murmured.

“Hey,” Bucky replied. He looked more peaceful than Steve had seen him in a long time.

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Have you just been sitting there since I fell asleep?”

Bucky shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind,” Bucky said. “Feeling any better?”

Steve slowly sat up. “Actually, yeah. A lot better.”

Bucky was still watching him calmly. “What about what happened yesterday?”

Steve avoided his eyes. “What about it?”

“That ever happen before?”

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, sometimes. Not that often.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Steve.”

“Bucky.”

“Have you talked to Sam about it?”

Steve frowned. “No. It’s fine.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “It’s not.”

“Bucky – “

“You’ve got me going to all these ‘specialists’ four days a week, Steve,” Bucky said sharply. “The least you could do is go once or twice.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t argue against that.

“Please?”

Steve frowned at him. “If I say yes, will you agree to stop asking me about it for now?”

“Yes,” Bucky said smugly.

“Fine,” Steve muttered. Bucky grinned at him and somersaulted backward off the bed.

Steve sighed and flopped back down on his pillows. This wasn’t necessarily something he _wanted_ to do, but he thought it… it might be time.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, let me know what you thought! 
> 
> I am [here](http://cameronwolfe.tumblr.com)


End file.
